Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Vengeance ❯ Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, or any of the characters featured therein; they belong to Akira Toriyama and whoever he's decided to share them with.

Author's Notes: I'd like to apologize in advance for the delay that will almost certainly occur between this chapter and the next. I'm a florist and Valentine's Day is right around the corner. It's going to kill me for sure, and my boyfriend will need a few days to gather up the dragonballs and resurrect me.

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PRESENT DAY

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“You seem to be in an unusually good mood.” Puar commented as he caught up to a humming Bulma. “Did your period finally come?” He whispered, looking furtively around to make sure Nail wasn't within hearing range. Guru had decided that morning that since there was no way Bulma and Puar could manage the big crate containing their new regeneration tank all alone, he would send Nail along to help them load it into their ship. They were currently waiting outside Guru's home for the transport service to show up and take them back to the city. Nail had taken the crate out and disappeared somewhere for the moment.

“No, but Guru told me last night that I'm definitely not knocked up!” Bulma whispered back, her pleasure at this favourable turn of events palpable. “He said he'd be able to feel it...like maybe the baby would have had a ki already or something.”

“I guess that makes sense, since Vegeta's really strong. And remember how Dende could tell that I wasn't in my natural form the first time we met? It's creepy the way they know things.” Puar shrugged and perched on her shoulder. “Either way, that's really good for you, isn't it?”

“Absolutely!” Bulma said, “For sure!” and Puar couldn't help but notice that there was a forced note hiding behind her obvious happiness. He wondered if she'd maybe gotten a little attached to the idea of having a child, but quickly dismissed the thought. Even if she had, she'd quickly find something else to take up her attentions. Having a baby at this point was probably the worst thing that could have happened to her, and to the poor unborn kid. “But...uh...” her voice wavered, “I'm maybe still a little emotional about the whole thing.” Her smile was watery, and Puar sighed and patted her consolingly.

“Just remember how terrified you were when we bought all those stupid tests, Bulma.” The little cat said. “And know that one day, when we're not neck-deep in trouble all the time and when Frieza is no longer terrorizing the universe, you'll be able to settle down and make all the babies you want.”

“Pfft.” Bulma snorted and swiped quickly at her moist eyes. “Who says I want to make babies? All they do is poop and burp and scream. Who wants to deal with that?” She tossed her hair and Puar was nearly thrown from his perch.

“Hey!” He cried, feigning irritation because he knew that Bulma was trying to get him to change the subject.

“Oh, look!” Bulma pointed to a speck in the distance that was quickly becoming a blur. “The transport is coming!” She reached up and steadied the cat, who was once again wobbling thanks to her abrupt movements. Nail and Dende emerged from the house just as the carrier settled to the ground. Dende gave them both rushed hugs and extracted laughing promises to come back soon as Nail hefted the crate and shoved it on-board.

“I wish I'd known it would be here.” Bulma cocked her head, watching the Namek's muscles bulge with effort. “Then I could have maybe brought a huge capsule-box to hold it.

“It is no trouble.” Nail puffed irritably as he shifted the awkward load in his arms. Bulma winced at the tone, so obviously contrary to the words coming out of his mouth. Nail probably had better things to do than play courier boy for Guru's friends, and the fact that loading the box had become difficult made her feel a bit guilty. One of the corners had caught on something and the crate was stuck half-inside, half-outside of the doorway with no room to squeeze in and fix it.

“I'll help,” Puar said, quickly floating over and flattening himself to ease through one of the very small spaces between crate and doorframe. Once inside, he found the problem. “You're stuck on a bolt that's raised up in the floor!” he called out. “Lift the box about an inch up and you'll clear it!” He jumped back as the box shifted, Nail following his instructions a little quicker than he'd expected. The crate slid the rest of the way easily and Puar was soon joined inside by his human friend and the stoic Namek. Dende waved frantically as the door whooshed shut behind them and the transport took off and sped back the way it had come, buildings and trees and plains whizzing past outside the windows. They journeyed in silence; Puar and Bulma were unnaturally quiet in the presence of the taciturn warrior so the trip seemed twice as long as it should have felt and everyone was relieved when the hulking machine finally slowed to a stop at the city's spaceport.

Bulma and Puar bolted quickly from the confining atmosphere of the transport while Nail took his time manoeuvring their precious cargo from the hold. By the time he'd gotten the cumbersome package free, Bulma had already fired up her ship and was in the middle of the pre-launch checklist. After instructing the ship's computer to begin its own system check, Bulma skittered down to the cargo hold to help secure the precious machine. “I can't thank you enough, Nail.” She said, digging about in a storage cupboard for some heavy-duty nylon straps. “We'd never have managed to get this thing here by ourselves. I owe you one.” She tossed him a strap and bent to clip one of her own to a metal ring mounted low on the wall.

“So tell me who Vengeance is.” Nail said, and Bulma looked up in surprise to find him standing directly above her, trapping her quite effectively between the wall and the crate. She stared, openmouthed, a sudden bolt of unease racing down her spine. “You do owe me, after all.” He smiled in what Bulma assumed was an attempt at being pleasant, but the presence of his impressive canine teeth ruined the effect and set her nerves firing.

“Guru said...” Bulma trailed off weakly as she tried to think of an excuse. If Nail didn't already know, Guru must have had a reason, and it wasn't really her place to go telling people's secrets. Bulma Briefs might have been a huge gossip, but her mouth was welded shut when it really mattered.

“Guru is old and weak, Bulma.” Nail sighed. “And I fear his mind is failing him. He guards his secrets well, but what good will that be if he dies without sharing them with the ones who need the knowledge most?” He backed off a step and Bulma found herself breathing a bit easier. She wished Puar were around, and wondered where the little cat had gone to. “Forgive me my impudence.” Nail looked quickly away, “But I fail to see why this is a secret only from me!”

“Dende doesn't know.” Bulma offered.

“Dende is a child!” Nail exploded, throwing his arms wide. “He has no business knowing any of what we do, but Guru puts his trust in awkward places.” He glared at her, and she glared back, insulted.

“Ve...” She caught herself, “Vengeance...we both swore to him. At least I did.” Bulma glanced sideways at the tank. “He is my ally and at times my friend, and his secrets are not mine to tell. Nor are they Guru's.” She swallowed and crouched to pick up the strap before slipping between Nail and the crate, crossing to secure the strap high on the other side of the box. “I am sorry, if it's any consolation.” Bulma said, steeling herself to look into Nail's eyes for a nerve-shattering moment before he looked away, growling his frustration. She turned and continued her work, and after a tense moment, he joined her. Working together, they had the crate secured in a matter of moments. Out of politeness, Bulma offered the Namek some cold water before he left, but he was irritated and anxious to be away from her. Bulma thanked him again, but he remained silent aside from a terse goodbye to herself and to Puar, who'd reappeared at her shoulder. Together, they watched him descend the steps and disappear in to the bustling crowd that was always swarming the docks.

“He gives me the willies.” Puar said, after the ship's hatch closed with a hiss of air.

“Me too.” Bulma sighed. “I think it's because he looks so much like Piccolo. And that guy was about as bad as they come.” She shivered, thinking of the old Demon King. “I mean, I guess I get that Piccolo was also a Namek so it makes sense that they'd look similar, but Guru and Dende don't frighten me a bit. Nail though...yikes!”

“Doesn't help that he always seems like he's pissed off about something.” Puar put in, and Bulma nodded in agreement.

“Too true.” She said, plopping herself into the captain's chair and strapping herself in. She tapped away at her control board, setting their course and going over the results of the automated pre-launch checklist while Puar went into another room to morph into his humanoid shape and put some clothes on, before returning and strapping himself into his own chair.

“Ready.” He said, tightening his belts.

“You sure you don't want me to make a harness for your normal shape?” Bulma asked, looking over at her friend. “I mean, it must be kind of a nuisance for you to have to switch bodies every time we hit a bumpy patch.”

“Nah...” Puar shook his head and blushed a little. “To be honest, it kind of gives me an excuse to be in this form.”

“How many times have I got to tell you, you don't need an excuse?” Bulma laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Maybe not with you,” Puar crossed his arms over his chest. “But it still feels weird to just randomly be this shape when the others are around. I figure that if I use it in situations where it's required, it'll get them used to it before I just start randomly being your male lookalike.”

“Whatever, Puar.” Bulma sighed and braced for takeoff, then raised her voice to be heard over the rumbling of the ship's engines. “I just wish you'd be more comfortable being yourself, whichever form that happens to be!”

Puar uncrossed his arms and reached out to grab her hand with one of his. “I'm getting there.” He smiled and squeezed her fingers, glad when she returned the gesture.

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“You and I are going to get out of here.” Piccolo said, squinting through the darkness at his wide-eyed companion.

“What?” Goku whispered, crawling quietly through the dirt to grasp at the bars that separated their cages. “How?”

“I'm not sure yet.” Piccolo replied, “but I'm strong enough to overtake one of the guards. Maybe when they bring us our food next?” He mused aloud.

“Where will we go? What will we do?” Goku asked, slumping a little. He was hoping that Piccolo would have had a better plan. They'd tried going up against their guards before, in the early days, and it had ended badly. They'd been hungry and sleep deprived at the time, operating on fumes.

“We'll steal a ship and go where fate takes us.” The green man shrugged. “Anywhere's better than here. And once we get some food into you, I'm sure you'll be able to start rebuilding your strength.”

“Food?” Goku asked, wistfully.

“Yeah, you know that thing that's been missing from your diet for three years?” Piccolo's sarcasm was lost on the saiyan, who'd wandered into dreams of ice cream and chicken wings. “Anyway, I figure we have to catch one of the guards by surprise when there's only a few of them around. Maybe we pick a time when they've been giving us water on a regular basis so I'm at my strongest.”

“I want to go now.” Goku whined, still thinking about the day when he'd finally be able to stuff his aching stomach to full capacity. “I'll give you my water rations. All of it!”

“You'll die, idiot.” Piccolo rolled his eyes, “though if you share some of it...” he trailed off, claws tapping the ground as he thought. “If you gave me just a little bit every time, it would make a huge difference to me.”

“Done.” Goku stuck his hand through the bars and gave Piccolo's a quick shake. “If I can get out of here, I don't care what I have to do.” He said, firmly, and the Namek believed it. It was one of the reasons he was so desperate to escape, actually. He feared not only for the other man's life, but for his sanity as well. Goku was slowly becoming something other than what he'd been during their time as rivals on Earth. He was sharper and meaner, though Goku's `mean' was still pretty damn nice in relation to most. But the trademark patience and persistent belief in the good of others was quickly dissolving and Piccolo feared that his friend was turning feral, like a dog abandoned in the wild. They had to get away, had to escape, and fast. There was really no other choice if Piccolo ever expected to see his friend regain his old personality. Hell, the old personality could be damned, as long as he stopped the spiralling descent into absolute and utter animal madness.

Three days later, they had their chance. It was much sooner than they'd been expecting and their plan was still painfully full of holes, but Piccolo felt strong and Goku felt driven, and the lone man that had been assigned to guard their small work crew was astoundingly hungover. There were other crews nearby with other, more capable, guards, but Piccolo figured that if they could at least get a head start, they'd have as good a chance as any of making it before too many people realized what was going on. He had to time it right though; go too early and the other guards would still be fresh-faced and full of energy. Wait too long and he and Goku would be so drained from the day's work that they'd never make it.

Piccolo made his move shortly after lunch, when a combination of drink, hot sun, and slightly spoiled meat had their guard retching in a corner of their small dugout. Piccolo took notice and elbowed Goku, who was busy hefting rocks into a cart. Not for the first time, Piccolo wondered what the hell they were doing here, exactly, but quickly dismissed the thought. Perhaps after they'd escaped he'd look it up, but at that moment he didn't care whether they were mining for gold or just doing some landscaping - the guard was crouching on the ground with his back to them, attention only for his roiling guts, and it was the perfect opportunity! Goku nodded and caught the attention of the other prisoners in their group while Piccolo grabbed a good, hard rock, testing its weight in his hand. He shuffled slowly toward the guard, trying to minimize the clanking of the chain connecting his ankles.

“Don't make a sound, and we'll give you the keys when we're done.” Goku pointed at his own shackles.

“You're crazy, they'll kill you!” Another prisoner hissed. “They'll kill us all!”

“We're doing it.” Goku shrugged. “You can stay and insist you had no part in it, or you can run, I don't care. Just be quiet!” He turned and shuffled toward Piccolo and the unsuspecting guard, just in time to see the green man raise his fist and bring the rock down hard on the back of the vomiting man's skull. Goku blanched and felt as though he might lose his own lunch, but he picked up speed and was at Piccolo's side by the time his friend had pulled the master key from the guard's belt. He bent and shoved it into the lock on Goku's right ankle, grunting in frustration as the lock, stiff with sand and dirt, played hard to get.

“Quickly, quickly.” Goku chanted as Piccolo pried the anklet off and moved to the left. “Damn their scouters, I wish we could use ki!” He danced from foot to foot as Piccolo jammed the key into his own anklet and twisted, this shackle coming off more easily. He did the same for his other leg and then tossed the key to the wide eyed workers huddled across the small quarry.

“Come on!” He surged to his feet and grabbed Goku's wrist, forcing the other man to run with him. Flying would have been much faster but they worried about setting off the scouters of the other guards and had decided the night before only to raise their power levels when it was absolutely necessary.

“H-Hey! Hey, over here!” Someone shouted from behind him, and Goku turned to see the workmate who'd spoken out, hollering and waving at one of the neighbouring work crew's guard. “Those guys are escaping!”

“Fucking rat!” Piccolo snarled furiously. “Probably thinks he'll get rewarded! C'mon Goku!” He leapt into the air, followed by his friend, and they sped along desperately, not really sure which direction to go. A few guards sprang upward as well, but by some lucky twist of fate, most of the men below did not know how to fly, nor did they have much ki to speak of, and instead relied on high-powered weapons to do their jobs.

“Scatter shot!” Piccolo screamed, pushing his hand forward to force five balls of ki outward toward the floating guards ahead. He wished that he had the time and the strength to charge something stronger, like his Masenko attack, or even the Special Beam Cannon, but to do so would put him at a serious disadvantage. Even this simple attack drained him more than he'd thought it would. He grimaced; if he was so much weaker than he'd believed, what state was Goku in?

Three of the five connected with their stunned targets, knocking two of them down to the ground, while the third managed to recover and continue his charge, only to be incapacitated by a fist as Goku ploughed right into him. “Remember, don't stop to fight!” Piccolo shouted as he released another scatter shot, this time managing to take down the remaining two guards. They were in view of the docks now, and in luck; there were four small personal transports and two large slaver ships waiting in port. They'd be crazy to try and take a slaver ship, but the smaller ones could be manned by as little as one person, with maybe a few servants along to help keep the newly purchased slaves under control.

“The green one!” Goku shouted, pointing his finger at the smallest of the four. “I don't sense anyone inside it!” Piccolo nodded and together they dove down toward the near-empty yard. “We're gonna make it!” he crowed, pumping his fist and adding an extra little burst to his already phenomenal speed.

“Goku, watch out!” Piccolo yelled from behind him, just as the blast caught the Earthling from the side. “GOKU!” he screamed, as his friend was knocked sideways in the air, half the rags that made up his clothing burnt away.

“Where do you think you're going, dogs?” A slick, slimy voice demanded, and both escapees looked to their new assailant. The fat, pink alien hardly fit in his uniform, and he held a sandwich awkwardly in his right hand, its contents slowly slipping out and falling down, down, down through the air and into the dirt. Goku whimpered as a slice of meat slapped the ground.

“Aww, did we interrupt your lunch?” Piccolo taunted as he lowered himself into an attack position. Goku shook his head to remove his focus from the spoiled food and did the same. Soon, he reminded himself, he would be able to eat to his stomach's content! He'd be free and away from this awful place, and he'd find Chichi and she'd cook the most delicious meals for him, just like she had on Earth.

“Dodoria, what do you think you're doing?” Someone shouted from the ground, and before they knew it a bluish alien had floated up from the ground. “We do not have time for this! Let the staff here deal with their own issues!”

“Aww, but this looks like it could be fun, Cui.” Dodoria chuckled and stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth, fat black lips slapping as he chewed. “I won't be long.” He said around his mouthful, and Cui cast him a look of disgust.

“I'm serious! If Frieza chews us out for being late, it's on your head!” Cui threatened. “Drop off the load of slaves and GO! Those are our orders!”

“Oh, shut your trap, fish face!” Dodoria heaved a sigh. “I'm so sick of you!” He raised a hand and fired, knocking his comrade back several feet in the air. “If you don't quit telling me what to do, I'll fry your ass and have you for dinner!” Cui shook his head but retreated, grumbling all the way.

“Slave master says they're valuable workers and not to kill them!” Cui shouted from the ground, and Goku and Piccolo saw Dodoria roll his eyes.

“Fuckin' fun-busters.” He said to them, as though they were in on the game. “Ah well, I'll just have to rough you up a bit, teach you a lesson, you know.” He advanced on them and they retreated slowly, reluctant to give up ground when they were so close to escape.

“Goku”, Piccolo projected to his friend's mind, and could tell that he had received the telepathic message by the way his spine stiffened. “Can you keep him occupied for just a few minutes? If you can do that, I can charge my beam attack!” Goku turned and nodded. He flexed his arms, feeling long dormant power running through his veins. Just a few minutes, that was all Piccolo would need to release the most deadly attack in his arsenal, the spiral of ki that was sometimes referred to as his special beam cannon.

“Bring it on!” Goku yelled, flying forward on a direct collision course with the fat, spiky enemy. Dodoria laughed and met the attack with a two-armed block before kicking out with one short leg to knock Goku back a few feet. For being so fat he was surprisingly nimble, but Goku was neither daunted nor discouraged - he was too full of anger to bother with defeatism. “We're getting out of here!” He screamed, launching himself forward again, poised as though ready to punch. At the last second, he pulled back and released a stream of blazing hot energy right into Dodoria's face. “Tell me when you're ready, Piccolo!” He thought, desperately hoping the message would reach his comrade, who was busy concentrating on gathering his ki.

Dodoria roared and grasped his face, fury and burns turning his skin from pink to mottled red, singed to a purplish black in a few minor spots. “Come back here, you runt!” He howled as Goku flickered out of range.

“Kamehama Ha!” Goku screamed, releasing his trademark attack to swat the fat blob off course.

“Goku, I'm ready!” Piccolo shouted into his mind, as loud and clear as though he'd said it aloud. “You've got to keep him still for a moment! And hurry, I can't hold this much power for long!”

“Get behind me, Piccolo!” Goku called, and when the Namek was facing his back, he placed his hands in front of his face, waiting, waiting, Dodoria was almost in range... “SOLAR FLARE!” Goku yelled, blue light bursting forth from him to blind his opponent while sparing Piccolo's sight. He dropped quickly down and out of his comrade's way, and Piccolo released his Special Beam Cannon with a fierce scream while Dodoria writhed prone in the air, clutching at his burning eyes.

“DODORIA!” Cui screamed from the ground, as the blast bore its way through the fat, pink warrior's chest and out the other side. Dodoria hit the ground with a thump, his last, gurgling breaths halted by the snap of his neck against rock.

“Piccolo, come on!” Goku shouted, racing toward the ship. He quickly noticed that his friend wasn't following, however, and turned to see Piccolo's own slower descent toward the ground. “PICCOLO!” he screamed, racing to help.

“I'm sorry.” Piccolo coughed as Goku latched on, supporting him in the air. “I put a little too much into that one. Drained myself.” He coughed again and this time a trickle of purplish blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “Stupid.”

“Don't worry, I'll get us to the ship.” Goku promised, but was quickly thwarted by Cui's ascension into the air.

“Not if I have anything to say about it, you won't!” He snapped, firing a blast at the unprotected, unprepared pair. They were knocked to the ground where a troupe of soldiers waited, guns at the ready.

“Don't kill them, don't kill them!” Shouted the slave master, waving his arms as he ran toward the circle of armed men. “They are valuable merchandise!”

“Feh.” Cui snorted as he landed, kicking a cloud of dust right into Piccolo's face. “Spare their lives and let them rot here. It's the least I can do to thank them, after they got rid of that obnoxious slob.” He spat in the direction of Dodoria's broken body, laughing as three soldiers struggled to lift it. “Leave that piece of trash here!” he shouted, and they dropped their burden with relief. “No one will care to bury him properly anyway. Let the carrion-eaters have him!” He cast one more look down at the two men in the dirt, before stalking away, calling his men to their ship.

The prison guards advanced slowly, the soft whine of their energy guns sharp in Goku's ears. He snarled and crouched, ready to launch himself at the nearest man, a greasy-looking humanoid whose fear was plain on his sweaty face. He would be easy to take down, Goku thought. Lunge forward, drive his hands through the soft walls of his belly, tear him through. Spin, kick the guy next to him, drive an elbow into the one on the other side. Ki blast the one at twelve o'clock, use the disembowelled guard as a shield against the guns...it would be messy. Did he care?

“We're surrounded, Goku.” Piccolo said, laying a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder. “You might take down one or two, but the others won't hesitate to fire their guns, and being dead will do us no good.”

“So what, we just give up?” Goku hissed, and Piccolo bared his teeth back.

“We are in no condition to fight, and I am in no mood to die today.”

“Well I'm in no mood to surrender today!” Goku shot back, at the same time throwing an arm out to let loose a blast of ki right into the nervous guard's chest. The man flew backwards and landed with a dull thump, dead on the ground.

“Goku, you IDIOT!” Piccolo yelled as his friend continued to release his ki upon the guards, most of whom had recovered from their shock and had begun to fire. Piccolo grunted as a blast hit him right in the back. He whirled and fired back with a scatter shot that took out three guards, but someone had sounded the alarm and more guards were pouring out of the buildings and running in from the fields to the sound of a blaring siren. “If we die,” Piccolo shouted as he deflected a blast from one gun, “I am so ratting out all your shit to the gods!”

“They won't kill us!” Goku laughed, drawing back and punching a man in the face. “We're valuable, remember?” He dodged a kick and crouched low, his own leg swinging out to knock his would-be assailant flat on his back, before stomping hard on the man's chest. They were being mobbed, surrounded on all sides and crushed like sardines in a can, and Goku didn't even care. Hot blood was thrumming through his veins, the scents and sounds of death all around him, goading him, driving him, infusing each punch, each kick, each blast with a raw anger that he had never felt before. “I just want to find my family.” He told a man, before knocking him back with a ki blast, “And you bastards,” he punched another away, “aren't making that very easy for me!” He kicked a man in the back, the snap of spine reverberating all the way up his leg, even as the guard fell and he moved on to the next. How many men had he killed today? He didn't know. He didn't care. He wasn't actively trying to slaughter them, but he wasn't exactly taking precautions to keep them alive either.

It wasn't long before they were overpowered by the sheer number of guards, neither warrior having been at full strength in the beginning of the fight anyway. Had they been, they might just have made it to the green ship and away from the cruel punishment of the slave master, but that was not to be. They fell to the swarming mass and were cuffed, hand and foot, before being beaten and ultimately returned to the very same cages they'd been housed in that very morning. Their rations would be cut and they would be put on separate work details, each to be manned by two of the strongest guards, equipped with the newest armour and the best energy guns the camp could afford. Their chances of mounting another escape attempt together were effectively nil.

Goku and Piccolo, both chastened and discouraged, and not to mention bruised and sore, did not realize that the day's debacle was one of the best things that had ever happened to them, however. Of course they did not know that someone very important had been watching the fight, realization and excitement slowly dawning as the black-haired `human' tore through guard after guard. Someone who knew that the Prince of Saiyans would pay handsomely for information about survivors of his kind...

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Thanks for reading. See you next time!